


4am

by tommywrites



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Eddie Diaz, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Worried Evan "Buck" Buckley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:13:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23702905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tommywrites/pseuds/tommywrites
Summary: 4am is for those with a smile on their faces but a sadness in their eyes and heartBuck stirs to find a cold emptiness in their bed where Eddie should be, he has done for the past week now but  has refused to question Eddie's whereabouts in case the prying would cause his boyfriend to share even less than he already does. Sometimes Buck wishes the man could wear his heart on his sleeve like himself, so he could reiterate the love and care Eddie so generously and easily gives to him, as it's the least he deserves. But at the same time how much power words and actions have over him. How easily he is acquainted with pain. He wouldn’t wish that feeling on anyone let alone the man he loves.or Eddie is struggling with nightmares that drag him back to Afghanistan and picks up old habits from before he enlisted in an attempt to find comfort and return to a state of naive joy. Buck just wants to help.
Relationships: Christopher Diaz & Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan “Buck” Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 71





	4am

**Author's Note:**

> Sectors of a poem that I quoted where taken from '4am' by Marie Christine!!!
> 
> Also important note that will hopefully make my thought process make more sense to why this story actually became a thing? my mum told me of a veteran she went to university with, he was there getting his education before enlisting and he would go on a run everyday at 4am with a rucksack filled with bricks. And to me that action felt like the perfect balance between pushing yourself as it allows you to grow physical strength but also grounding yourself as it allows you to build emotional strength and imagine once you've done it so many times it easy like? that would feel so good. idk moral of the story it made me think of Eddie and here we are... 
> 
> special shout out to kenzie who read this and made me post it i love you man

4am is not for the happy  
It is not for the fulfilled  
It is not for the couples sleeping soundly in each other's arms.  
4am is for the lonely, awake in emptiness

The beat-up khaki rucksack pulled at Eddie’s shoulders, as he ran tiredly yet fiercely, across the open field, a pink-purple landscape peeking through the once deep navy blue, the soft light that begins to enter the sky, guiding his every stride. It not only grounded him physically from the weight of the bricks, testing both his outer and inner strength, but emotionally too, bringing him a sense of stability and routine as he remembered his early mornings at university, filled with a naive joy, of wishing he could be fighting now, waiting agonisingly to finish his education so he could join the brave men and women fighting for their country and hopefully feel at one with them, soon.

Eddie doesn’t feel brave, as he replays the six years of his life he so stupidly signed away. He didn’t engulf the feelings of camaraderie and pride at the skills learnt and the family he was told he would create. Instead he engulfed a trauma that keeps him up at night, that haunts his every waking move and decision. A trauma built up of terrifying images that replay in his mind with ease as though it is his favourite song. The nightmares they produce is what led him to taking up these 4am runs again. Doing so without batting an eye or looking for any other outlet, partly for the familiarity, partly because he doesn’t want to burden Buck with the world inside his head but mostly because taking up these morning runs once more, truly, is his way of begging himself to return to that maybe silly, yes, but comforting, state of naivety.

4am is for those with a smile on their faces but a sadness in their eyes and heart

Buck stirs to find a cold emptiness in their bed where Eddie should be, he has done for the past week now but has refused to question Eddie's whereabouts in case the prying would cause his boyfriend to share even less than he already does. Sometimes Buck wishes the man could wear his heart on his sleeve like himself, so he could reiterate the love and care Eddie so generously and easily gives to him, as it's the least he deserves. But at the same time how much power words and actions have over him. How easily he is acquainted with pain. He wouldn’t wish that feeling on anyone let alone the man he loves. 

Buck treads lightly when leaving their bedroom in an attempt to not wake Christopher. As he passes the boys room, he finds himself hovering, checking Chris’ state to see if he was successful and releasing a breath he didn’t even realise he was holding as he sees him fast and soundly asleep, chuckling to himself at the sight of the messy curls falling in all directions before advancing to the kitchen. 

He was just about to leave and go back to bed, scolding himself for worrying too much until he is met with Eddie's red face and deep red, almost crimson eyes, leaving Buck unable to differentiate the sweat and the tears that have fallen violently on the other man's face. 

“What’s going on?” Buck asks cautiously, softly and Eddie hates, even though he’s tried so hard to hide it, that the fear and worry is still so clearly evident in his voice. Buck inches forward, planning to convey what he can’t in words, through touches until his eyes set on Eddie's backpack, narrowing as he sees the contents, 10 bricks, a bunch of emotions over ride him at that moment but mostly confusion “What is this Eds?” The younger man doesn’t mean the question to hold so much bite but his low tone and whisper, despite only being present due to his worry of Christopher overhearing, does make it come across that way. Scolding himself at the realisation he regroups, placing his hands around Eddie's hips stating smoothly “just, please, try and help me understand”. Something shifts completely in his partner then as Eddie wriggles out of his hold and steps back. 

“You don’t want to hear that shit Evan”, how powerful and heated the words were despite how quietly they were uttered, caught Buck off guard but not as much as the use of his first name, bringing a new tone, a new weight to the conversation, severity. Admittedly Buck knows this is when he should have stopped, but he presses further. 

“I do, I want to listen to anything and everything that's going on”

As Buck attempts to reach out and cup Eddies elbow softly before carrying on, the other man pulls away scoffing because of course it’s that easy for Buck. He doesn’t mean to say what comes next, to open up more than he ever has, release years of feelings that he’s worked so hard to repress. But he sees red and then just breaks. 

“You- you don’t wanna hear how every time I hear a cry I recoil, you don’t want to hear about how every time I close my eyes I'm back in Afghanistan, you don’t want to hear about the deaths I've seen, the shots I've fired.” At every new statement, his voice gets louder, his anger rising. Until it crashes. Eddies suddenly become quieter, more dejected than angry, the wobble in his voice more evident, as Buck can see he doesn’t want to say what is about to leave his lips but a longing of finally not having to carry this alone is taking over his frame, shrugging as he finally speaks. “You don’t want to hear how I could- couldn’t save them. How I failed them” 

“Your squadron?” Buck asks carefully, there's no judgment, no pity to his tone, knowing that's not what his boyfriend wants or needs, he’s just trying to understand. To which Eddie notices and is grateful for, but can’t help but tut sadly in reminiscence. 

“My team.” He corrects and Buck doesn't think he's ever heard a phrase said so firmly, yet so broken. 

Eddie hadn’t even realised he’d been shaking, and whether it was from the anger or the crying was an even greater mystery, until he could feel his trembling hands came into contact with Bucks back, as the taller man wrapped him in a tight hug allowing Eddie's head to rest in the crook of his neck. Before Eddie could apologise for the tears soaking Bucks collar, his head has been lifted up for a soft kiss, long enough to allow the love and care to come across but short enough so that it stays sweet.

“You’re not in Afghanistan anymore Eds, you’re home, with me and Christopher, who hopefully hasn’t woken up after all of that” Buck jokes lightly. 

“Not our kid, he could sleep through a tsunami” They both laugh wholeheartedly at that, the first smile Buck has seen plastered on Eddie's face all day but its only 6am, hopefully there can be plenty more where that came from. 

“What I’m trying to say, is...” Buck whispers this with so much sincerity while placing his hands softly yet firmly around the back of Eddie’s neck, the older man is putty in his hands, softly smiling and leaning back into the touch. “You’re not alone anymore, you don’t have to deal with this alone”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading, i'm so sorry if its horrendous. 
> 
> you can find me on tumblr @/lovinmullen 
> 
> i hope you're all having a lovely day and staying safe!


End file.
